


Curbs

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life [31]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Always look down when you're walking ...





	

Mexico was hot. The hotel was nice. The waves were high enough to intimidate but not enough to stay away from by any means. The food was spice. The music was excellent. The hospital was painted various shades of the rainbow and quite a cheery place, considering.

Yes, the hospital.

It took Mulder nearly six days in a foreign country to hurt himself.

And the sad thing was, it wasn’t a surfing injury.

He broke himself falling off a curb at 5pm on a sunny day with minimal traffic and while completely sober.

Scully labeled him truly special under her breath but not to his face, given how much pain she could see he was in, tears shining at the corners of his eyes as he attempted to make lame jokes in compensation, “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and let the doctor work, please?”

“If I go quiet, Scully, I’m gonna cry like a damn baby.”

“Aww, it’s okay to cry. I won’t tell the guys.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Studying his leg, the ankle twisted funny and the knee swelling, “your surfing and driving days are over, however, for the foreseeable future.”

His eyes rounded with understanding, “oh, shit. It’s my right leg.”

Leaning over, she kissed his forehead, pushing back his salt-caked hair, “yeah. Looks like I get to drive you across the country by myself a second time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like you fell off the curb and into a pothole on purpose and if you did, never, ever, ever tell me that, please.”

“Total accident, I swear.”

As they wheeled him off for x-rays, she folded her arms across her chest and sighed, thinking this was going to be a very long car ride home.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

His surgery to place the pins was that night, then, the following afternoon, after his release and after she’d managed, by no easy means, to get him back up to their room, he was wide-awake and feeling saucy, “Um, this stupid-ass cast does not mean an end to our vacation. This stupid-ass cast means I best figure out how to jerry-rig my crutches so my armpits don’t explode while I’m climbing down into and back up out of the Grand Canyon.”

She looked at him with her ‘you are totally fucking crazy’ eyebrow scrunch and incredulous nose wrinkle, “are you kidding?”

“Do I look kidding to you?” He sat there, casted foot up on three pillows, prescription drug container on the nightstand and bottle of water in hand, his face deadly serious, “I am not going home because of five pounds of plaster and three pins. No way. This shit just got real and I am not backing down.”

Scully took one step back, biting the inside of her bottom lip in poorly-hidden sarcastic amusement, “watch it, Rambo or you’re gonna pop a pin.”

He suddenly grinned, “little too intense, huh? Take it down a notch or two?”

“Three would probably work.”

“Sorry, Scully, I just think that since we didn’t let a few nosebleeds force us home, I don’t think we should let one stupid broken leg.”

Tilting her head to study him, he studied her right back, waiting while she weighed options, debated arguments, measured worthiness of fighting his stubbornness. In the end, he watched her face find its conclusion and he was already starting his smirk when she relented, “I do think we leave tomorrow though, if you’re up for it. I’d rather have you in the States if something else happens.”

“That I can live with.” Beckoning her over to him, “with that settled, how about we go find some food? I feel good enough to take my second set of legs out for a spin.”

“You are still hopped up on painkillers and numb from the injections. You’ll feel a shitload worse in a few hours and I’d rather keep you here for it than out there with the free-flowing tequila and the ‘I must dance’ Mariachi music.”

“Oh, please, you had the most fun of your life the night you discovered that dancing in public is not the death sentence you always took it to be.”

Her cheeks pinked at the memory of that night and she shrugged, “either way, why don’t I go get us some food and I’ll bring it back, all right?”

“No tequila?”

“Not with the cocktail you’re already on, buddy. I don’t need that kind of nightmare in my life.”

&&&&&&&&&&

“Scully?”

She woke with a start, his whisper carrying to her brain, making her sit up immediately, “are you okay? What do you need?”

“I need to pee and I can’t see my crutches ‘cause it’s dark and I’m kinda dizzy.”

Glad she had managed to get a few hours sleep in, she stood, turning on the light in the bathroom before coming over to help him, “you want to try the crutches or just lean on me with one crutch? If you’re dizzy, leaning might be easier.”

“I don’t care. I just need to go.” Opting for his leaning, she got him up, steadied him, then moving him slowly, one crutchy swing at a time, his arm around her shoulder the whole way. Finally making it to the bathroom, she turned to go once he was standing there, “wait. You go, I fall over. My head feels weirder than when we’re totally drunk.”

Just wanting to go back to bed, she nodded, “all right. Just … hurry up and don’t miss. I have to use this toilet, too.”

“Do my best.”

The next 72 seconds were possibly the strangest she’d ever spent with him and they had done some truly, madly, crazily weird things in their time together but keeping him from falling to the ground while looking away with her eyes closed while he peed, the deep pouring splash invading her ears, had to take the proverbial cake.

So focused on not thinking about her surroundings, she didn’t hear him the first time but the second, “hey, Scully, I’m done. Help me turn around so I can wash my hand,” caught her attention. Soon, they were back in bed, Mulder groaning in relief when he was finally settled, “thanks.”

“Wake me again if you need me.”

He was drifting back to sleep quickly but not before he groped across the sheets, finding her shoulder first, then following it down to her hand, “you are my bestest Scully ever.”

She squeezed his fingers, “after having to help you pee, I’d better be.”

“When we tell this story again, make sure you say you helped me stand while I did the peeing. Otherwise, it just sounds weird.”

Rolling towards him, she nuzzled his arm for a minute, “shut up and go to sleep.”


End file.
